Lullaby and Goodnight
by DevDev
Summary: The first time it happens, the Oceanic 6 aren't even gone yet. Sawyer/Claire.


Disclaimer: So this is the first time I've written a fic like this so I'm a bit nervous of the outcome. Used to be a huge fan of Charlie and Claire but Lost has forced me to change my perspective a tiny bit. Also a bit darker than what I'm used to writing, but I like it. A sequel may or may not be in the works... it all depends on how much it plays out in my head and what happens in the next few episodes of Lost. And nope, don't own Sawyer, Claire or any other Lost related characters in this fic.

The first time it happens, she doesn't care. She doesn't care that it should feel wrong and hopeless and full of shit because it doesn't. It may be on the ground in the middle of the jungle, but it doesn't matter. It feels like something she has wanted for a very long time and it feels like something she's been waiting for and it makes her feel alive alive alive. She's aware of all the other women he's been with but **doesn't care**, doesn't remember ever caring. Just remembers needing him and him needing her just as much. There. Then. Now. **Right there.**

Charlie is not on her mind. Kate is not on his. But they think about life and death and how they have both wavered so closely between the two in only a matter of hours. The need to feel something… _anything_.

They don't say a word, but maybe once or twice she can hear him mutter _sweetheart_ and it's **not** like the way he first said it back in the cabin. He can't help but brush his fingers along the bruises and scratches left by the explosion, their marks still raw and red against her porcelain skin. They each make new marks on one another, but they aren't enough to mask the other ones. Even so, he doesn't touch her like she's about to break and she can't help but like that.

It starts off slowly but they're falling fast and gaining speed and they can't stop it.

They never did want to stop it.

Hard. Fast. A few gasps, a couple of rolls in the dirt and it's over. She doesn't wonder if it will happen again, but knows that it will. Wordlessly they walk the very short distance back to the fire where Miles and Aaron are sleeping, each tucked away. Aaron begins to stir as Claire settles down, his startling cry sounding a little too much like judgment. She sings him the lullaby softly to soothe him and cease his cries.

Sawyer strains to listen.

--

"Claire."

They use each other's real names now. Six are gone and never coming back and it's broken their masks, left her barely standing at all. The crib is empty next to her bedside, the baby blue blanket still folded neatly inside waiting for a blonde baby boy who will never use that cradle again. The first three nights she waits with it anyway, her endless cries filling the night from dusk till dawn. Eventually the wind makes the hollow cradle sway and move in a ghost like rhythm and it breaks her even further. He's there when soft creaking of the cradle begins to make her shiver. He's there when her cries suddenly stop and he's there when she strains to listen to the song on the wind, whispered in the air. He doesn't say anything to her because she's not the only one who can hear the lullaby.

She takes his hand when it's offered.

Now she doesn't sleep there at all. She can't help but wonder if he was meant to be her pillow anyway.

"James."

The second time, they aren't quiet. They make noise to drown out the lullaby. It's Kate's voice singing it this time.

--

Slowly they become a twosome, inseparable and one rarely seen without the other. They depend on each other, lean on each other and cannot make it without one another. It's a dependency grown in the harshest of circumstances, but a dependency all the same. He's never needed someone around and she's never wanted to be around for anyone, which is exactly why it happens in the first place.

When he starts building a small house a little ways from the beach, she doesn't ask why. She always watches him; makes a spot a little ways off where each can see one another just in case. On his breaks he teaches her how to shoot a gun and though it's something she never wanted to learn, she does it anyway. She learns what makes him happy and he learns what eases her loss. They learn and grow and forget a little more each day.

The cradle still sits abandoned on the beach, swinging with the breeze; sometimes Claire swears Aaron is just asleep inside of it and waiting for her to return. If she lets go of James' hand, she knows she'll walk to the cradle and never come back.

He doesn't let go. She doesn't want him to.

When he asks her to sing the lullaby at night, sometimes she pretends not to hear and other times, he's sorry he asks at all. When she does sing it, it never sounds like the night she sang it to Aaron. This new version is broken and sad and empty. She's afraid nothing will ever fill that emptiness again. He makes it his goal to try.

--

They don't talk about her growing belly. She knows what it means and he knows what it means, especially since he makes sure they use protection every time (except for that once in the jungle way back when), but they don't talk about it. Juliet talks about it and Desmond talks about it, but Claire and James won't.

The house is finished and now James watches Claire work. She cleans everything salvageable from his supply and places it around the house, slowly making it into a home. They don't talk about that either. When she finds a child's shoe, she cries and doesn't stop for three hours. **Can't **stop for three hours.

After that, they talk. He tells her about his other kid, someplace off where he doesn't know of and her name is Clementine. She answers that she has another kid too, someplace off where she doesn't know of either and his name is Aaron.

This time they take it slow. Snail's pace compared to their first time. He says sweetheart this time as well, but in the most different way yet. There aren't any marks from any explosions, but when _I love you_ is spoken softly and low at first, a different mark is formed. When it's repeated, louder this time, he can't think of anything else he wants more in this entire world than her. Claire will never forget the baby who was taken from her, but in this moment and with those words, a part of her is complete.

Afterwards, she teaches him the lullaby and they sing it together, their voices echoing against their empty cabin walls. She falls asleep clutching the baby's shoe in one hand and his hand in her other. James cries for the first time in a long time.

She wants to name their baby Aimee. He doesn't want her to die.

--

The first time they talk about Kate and Charlie is the last time. Aimee is kicking hard against his hand and Claire recounts the time Ethan abducted her and left Charlie hanging by his neck. James speaks of the time when he knew it was over. Turns out James never did like to play on the seesaw at recess as a kid. Claire laughs and the sun shines. They continue their walk, but when Claire pales, Sawyer watches as blood trickles down her fair legs and pools at her bare feet; staining them for a long time to follow.

Sawyer screams for Juliet as Claire collapses into his outstretched arms. There's no lullaby on the wind this time.

--

"Aimee."

She is born with blonde curls and blue skin. Blue like the world has been suffocated and no one is breathing. Blue like James can't breathe, won't breathe, will never breathe again. Bluer than Aaron's forgotten blanket on the beach.

Juliet tries her best and for the rest of Aimee's life, Desmond and Juliet refuse to call her anything but Miracle. Suddenly her skin isn't blue and she's screaming louder than Sawyer on a bad day. She won't open her eyes for days, mad at the world maybe, or maybe born with her daddy's disposition, they can't tell yet. Desmond says Miracle is a strong mix between Claire and James. James has never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

"James."

He has never cried because of happiness and joy. Never has had his heart so tightly held by another person before. He is happy. Tough-guy exterior be damned and shot to hell. When he holds Aimee he can see the whole world right there in his hand, all six pounds eight ounces of her and for the first time, it doesn't scare the shit out of him.

"Juliet."

Juliet tries her best. And finally, even though it's taken her years and her entire life it seems, Juliet finally understands pregnancy and the island. Claire loses a lot of blood and Miracle is born blue, but it's not like any other island pregnancy or any other island baby because Claire is a Shepard. She wonders for a brief moment if she and Jack… but doesn't think any further, letting it all go. Juliet swaddles Miracle in anything but the blue blanket and can almost see Jack in her deep frown.

"Claire."

Claire Claire Claire.

Aaron was an easier delivery than Aimee (she won't call her Miracle even though that's exactly what she is). When James places the tiny life on her semi-shrunken belly, she's crying before he lets go. Aimee's face scrunches even tighter and she lets out a series of sharp, startling cries. Claire makes him climb in bed with them and he immediately knows that her tears are a mix of happiness and despair. James speaks, spins a story out of the air about a golden haired boy who is missing his momma. Spins a story about a fiery mess and a beautiful woman with hair the color of the sun. He calls Aimee sweetheart and Claire hears it like he's just said it for the first time.

Aimee is still frowning and Claire is still crying so James sings. Off key and voice raspy, he sings the lullaby. When Claire joins him, James swears it's nearly like the night she sang it to Aaron. The despair and brokenness both are almost gone, ebbing away with time. Aimee's face finally relaxes and her lips lose that pucker so often seen on Claire's face. She's asleep.

--

Aimee is five months old when the sound of helicopters wake James and Claire and the rest of those who are still on the island. James grabs a gun and hands the other to Claire.

It's a lullaby within itself, perhaps.

And perhaps not.

End.


End file.
